Built upon Blood:Forbidden Love
by trapdoorluver
Summary: Engaged to the Queen of Egypt, a young man must choose from being with the one he loves and the destiny he was meant to follow. Bad at summeries, please read and review! I'll give you a cookie if you do!
1. News of Engagement &The Mystical Visitor

**Chapter One: **

_News of Engagement and the visit of an unexpected visitor_

-The Engagement News- 

He sat at the dark, mahogany desk in a room flooded with darkness, blankly staring at the gold-plated band helplessly lying in his hands. His pale, thick fingers fidgeted clumsily with the tiny object, repeatedly putting it on, then carelessly throwing it off. His black hair fell wildly in his face, covering his mystical green eyes. _What am I doing? _He asked himself. _This isn't love. This is want, greed. _His mind was the one thing that kept him from doing the wrong, the unexplainable.

Suddenly, without warning, the door furiously swung open, revealing a rather stout man, with curly red hair. He had rough bits of red hair littered across his face, which contrasted perfectly to his endless blue eyes.

"Married!" He yelled, his voice scratched. "My Hasani, married!" With arms outspread he ran over to the dark shadow willowing in the blackened corner, sitting helplessly at the desk. Hasani did not bother to raise his head; he just kept his gaze upon the golden object in his hands.

"Yes, Paki." He silently whispered. "I am to be wed." His voice drew off into the distance, barely able to hear over the voices of the night that surrounded them.

Paki silently squatted next to Hasani, compassionately placing his hand upon his shoulder. Paki could see his discomfort and being the true friend he was, felt empathy for him. Hasani's pain was his pain, his sorrow shared only by his own soul. He was too loyal to Hasani, too loyal for his own good.

"Cheer up, Hasani! You are to be wed to the Queen!" He stood, waving his hands with vigor above his head. "You are to be King of Egypt!" Hasani shook his head in pity. He was almost disgusted by Paki's enthusiasm, his excitement over the whole topic.

Finally, painfully, Hasani lifted his head to look his friend in the eyes, his deep, blue, ocean-like eyes. He instantly became lost within them. He found himself sailing through the river of the Nile, flowing freely up stream, without a care to be found. No fears of commitment phased him. No pain of the new alarmed him. Just the sounds of the waves, of the creatures blessed his ears. His body didn't ache with pain, mental or physical, only the soothing breeze snapped at his face. The sun shone heavily from behind the darkened clouds, shining upon his face, warming it with instant heat.

"Is this what I need, Paki? Is this the right thing to do?" His eyes wandered back to the ring in his palms. The single band, so small, so inadequate, but symbolizing so much. How could this tiny thing cause so much fear, so much confusion? Paki once more placed his hand lovingly upon Hasani's shoulder.

"You have nothing to fear, my friend. Queen Layla is the perfect woman." He tightened his grip upon his shoulder slightly. "She is beautiful, intelligent, and a wonderful leader." Hasani looked up again at Paki, who was staring blankly at the opposite wall. Tears seemed to be welling in his eyes. "You will be happy." He whispered finally.

Hasani stood, taking Paki in his arms. "My friend, you have no reason to worry. I will not forget you." He pulled him closer, brushing a single fiery red curl from his face. "Once I am king, I shall grant you a high position. Not only will I be happy, but so shall you. You needn't worry." Hasani pulled Paki into a strong embrace, wrapping his arms fully around the stout man. Paki returned the gesture and squeezed his friend with love and care. He loved him, he really did, and he would never let him go. Just seeing him happy, or viewing his destiny from afar was enough to light his world. Enough to allow him to live with a smile upon his face for ages.

They pulled apart, gazing each other in the eyes, locked within each other's stares. Then, without any indication of what he was doing, Hasani slid the golden band upon his finger. His eyes were stern and certain as he did it, and this filled Paki with great fear. Fear for what was happening, and what was beginning to happen. He could see the fire buried deep within Hasani's eyes. He could sense the darkness buried deep within his soul. And when that was released, there is no telling the evil that would follow.

-A New Visitor- 

Her fingers were sore, bruised with pain. Blood unwillingly poured from the gash on her palm and she desperately dabbed at it with her linens, for she knew what undoubtedly happened to those who bled before the Queen. She had known all too well. Her companion, working hard, to the bone in fact being carried away from her. His screams still echoing through her mind. Those soldiers grabbing at his arms, forcing them apart, tearing him away from her. And the Queen, watching as the painful event took place. Her eyes full of hunger, of evil. She seemed to be foaming at the mouth, but nothing came from her. She was evil and took no mercy upon them.

She scrubbed the floor ever harder, still attempting to hide the blood that flowed from her hand. She quickly and clumsily wrapped it in her apron, which had turned from white, to red in a matter of seconds. She dare not leave her position for fear of being caught. She would have to hide it, stop the bleeding. She pressed the fabric harder against the wound, willing it to stop. _Please, Please. I beg of you, please stop bleeding. _Tears were beginning to form in her eyes, they were beginning to glaze her irises.

With a startling rumble a voice from behind her frightened her. "My dear, are you alright?" The voice was sweet, innocent and she timidly turned to face the voice. There stood an old, shrunken woman, quite possibly in her eighties. She fell to her knees beside her, inching ever closer. The woman compassionately reached out her trembling hands to take her own.

"Tell me your name, my dear." Her voice was commanding, yet had a sort of love in it. Frightened out of her wits, she opened her mouth.

"Nalhifa." She muttered, stumbling heavily over her own words. She brushed back a piece of her midnight black hair, while still pressing the clothing against the bleeding wound.

"You must let it be hit with air, my dear. Do not suffocate it." She slowly unwrapped the wound and raised it towards the ceiling. Blood poured heavily out of the gash and down Nalhifa's arm. It was one, red river flowing down her wrist, and coursing all the way down her arm. She shuttered and watched as it did so. Then, without warning it stopped. The wound seized its bleeding and only dried, chalk-like blood remained visible.

With amazement filling her eyes, Nalhifa gazed at the wound, which was merely a scratch at this point. "Th-Thank you." She stuttered. "Thank you so much, how could I ever repay you?" She looked up suddenly, with a snap of her neck. Her long strands of hair flung backwards, and her black eyes shot up to where the woman had been. But she was gone, completely gone. Her form was no longer there, it had dispersed entirely. She stood, glanced around and found no one. With a shutter, she lowered herself back down to the floor, tore off her blood-stained apron and returned to her work.


	2. A Forunate&Unforunate Encounter

**Chapter Two:**

_An Unfortunate, Fortunate Encounter With the Devil Herself_

In disgust, she stared at the crouched and withered figure at her feet. Her dark, slender finger pointed, shaking with tremendous anger, at the floor. "You believe this clean?" She spat at the helpless servant.

"No, My Queen." Replied the figure, ashamed and overwhelmed with fear. It was visible in her voice, the words that released from her mouth owning a different pitch with every syllable. She was forcing herself not to look up disloyally at the Queen, for that was certain death. She didn't want to meet that fate, that treacherous, horrible fate.

With a great sigh of frustration, the Queen coldly lowered herself to the tile floor. She felt the sudden shock of ice as she touched it, the cool air rushing up under her skirts. As she lowered her linens scattered across the grey and white marble, hiding it from the illuminescent moonlight that shone, with cursing light, through the curtains of the opposite wall. It momentarily hid behind one of the vast, stone pillars, but as she lowered herself closer to the floor, it reappeared, burning her skin once more. She cursed under her breathe, then gazed at the helpless servant with vicious eyes. They shot straight through her, burning directly through her heart as it passed. The shame-filled servant continued scrubbing at the tile, attempting to ignore the Queen's watchful gaze, the unwanted gaze.

Moments passed, and the tension continued to grow deep within the servant's groin, slowly consuming her pride, her bravery. It was a fire, burning, and the Queen's demeaning eyes was the coal. She refused to give in, to turn her neck and return her stare, she would never surrender. She feared those eyes with unspeakable power. Those midnight, black eyes. Those eyes which contained galaxy within galaxy, a never-ending universe, trapping whomever decided to travel, stupidly, into them. The eyes that acted as the web of a spider, catching and never releasing its prey until decides to dispose of you. Rip you to shreds as it sucks your body dry of blood.

"Look at me, slave!" She shouted, suddenly full of anger and frustration. The servant jumped, dropping the sponge from her hand. Coldly and violently, the Queen thrust up the servant's head with her frail hand. Such strength in that tiny hand, gaunt it looked, but so much power.

The frightened servant regretfully, silently fell limp within the Queen's grasp. She was a rag doll within her possession. The servant's eyes darted up to the midnight blackness that was the Queen's eyes. She immediately fell into a trance, a deep, undisturbed trance. All was lost. The towering, marble pillars, the vast room. The damp sponge pushing against her knee, it was all gone. Disenigrated into those eyes. All that existed was her. Her and her Queen. Those eyes cast a spell upon her.

Would she die now? Would the gruesome rumors of her bloodthirsty Queen come true at this very moment? Would her life end this way? No, she wouldn't allow it. Never would she give in, that is what she told herself before. _Never give in_.

She painfully pulled her gaze away from her Queen's web eyes, and slid her stare across the Queen's pale, parchment-like skin. To her smashed nose, seeming as if it had been smashed with a rock against her face. Her thin lips spread, or rather painted over her teeth, which were hidden, always hidden. Had she trained herself to smile that way? To hid them from the world?

Her bravery fled her body. Escaping from the torture she was enduring. She felt it leave, like an incredible force. Every particle she felt, like pin prick in the side of her stomach.

Finally the Queen stood, her linens pressing gently against her thin legs as she did so. Her face continued to seem cold, distant yet together.

"You are finished. Leave." She commanded. She flipped her hair to her right shoulder, the blackness falling across her back, and turned towards the opposite wall. Then she began walking away.

The servant sat, counting her blessings, as she painfully stood. Her life was saved and she had no clue as to why. Tales of the Queen's ruthlessness rung through the palace and out the doors to the slave quarters of the workers. A young boy had told her the tales of the unfortunate ones who encountered the Queen's wrath. Luckily she was spared.


	3. Undeniable passion&Distant Memories

Undeniable passion- 

The moon shone above, a bright globe hanging in the sky. The stars split the black sheet of color with tiny, enjoyable twinkles. Hasani smiled as he pushed his head back to view this delightful vision. Phantom clouds pushed across the shining globe, as if attempting to hide it from his sight. _You are not worthy of the beauty of the moon's light. Look away! _Distant sounds of wilderness filled his ears, more and more becoming softer. They were beginning to merge together, to become white noise.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Hasani snapped his head around behind him. The Queen, _his _Queen stood, white silk spilling over her figure. She slowly swooped her dark arms forward to graze his cheek. He seemed to flinch with denying passion. _Why did he like her touch, her cold touch so much? Why had he yearned for it, deep within the night, in the middle of the day? _

"Yes, my Queen, beautiful." He simply let his eyes slide shut, filling with ecstasy as she caressed his cheek, still. She slowly pushed her hand up to run her frail hand through his midnight-black hair. Hasani simply allowed it to happen, swaying his head from left to right, entranced by the touch of her.

"Soon, my love, we shall be together-" She stopped, drawing closer to him. She held her hand upon his cheek, and watched as strands of hair fell on his face, hiding his eyes. "forever." She added simply, her voice full of a sort of fury, of evil. His eyes slowly opened, as if waking from slumber.

"What do you mean-forever?" His voice trembled with uncertainty. His eyes became fixed upon her face, not really at her face, but at its features. The thick, pale lips, the squished nose, the pore-less, pale skin. It seemed too beautiful for anything living. Anything that could possess a heart, a brain, blood. He noticed her eyes, the peculiar color of them. Never had he seen eyes this color. A dark, succulent red, as if blood had filled them entirely.

To his question, she merely released a simple smile. Her lips were smeared across her teeth, hiding them from the world. "In due time, my love." She let her hand fall to her side, hitting her hip silently. "In due time." She repeated. She nodded to him, then turned. She straightened her dress of invisible wrinkles and began walking away from him. Before words could escape his lips, she was gone. Disappeared into the thick, midnight fog. He could still feel her hand upon his cheek, grazing it with compassion. Why couldn't he resist her?

Moments sitting in his study, examining the golden band he could easily just walk away. But when he thought of her lips, her eyes, her skin, he was trapped. When he thought of her soft, ice cold touch he was frozen. When he thought of the distant call of her voice, there was no use fighting. He did not love her, this he knew, yet, he could never leave her. She held a sort of trance upon him, a leash that would never break. He let out a grave sigh, attempting to release the pain that yanked at his heart.

Just as his mind began to drift, to once more think of her, a heavy-set hand fell upon his shoulder. "Hasani, you should get to bed." Paki's voice was deep set and full of fatigue. "There are wedding plans to be made tomorrow, you need your sleep." Hasani slowly turned to face his loyal, trusting friend. He stared at Paki's red ringlets upon his head. Oh, how he wanted to spring those ringlets! See them spring back to Paki's head! That was all too playful for this moment, for this situation. His mind always seemed to want, never to need. He wanted his Queen Layla; he wanted to be littered with her kisses. He wanted her touch, her gaze. He did not need any of it. Love was need, when it blessed him, he would surely not be able to live without it. This was merely an infatuation, surely not love.

Slowly, Hasani nodded and walked side by side with his curly haired friend through the mystic, dark fog. He squinted through the blurring path, his hand sprawled out before him, searching for anything to guide him home.

Distant Memories- 

Another day over, another hard-working job completed. Nalhifa slowly unwound her hair, releasing the long, brown braid that set itself upon her head all day long. She looked into the dust-covered mirror that lye, knelt against the wall before her. This beautiful mirror was all that was left of her family, all that she had to remember them. She reached her hand towards it, lovingly tracing the engraved flowers that made their way, as do vines, down the sides. A smile formed on her lips as she remembered her father's strong composure, and his weak, frail face. As she recalled all the loving moments with her mother. Her sitting upon her mother's lap, her mother compassionately brushing through her hair with her frail fingers.

Then she remembered her sister, her twin. They did everything together, seeming as one person. Wherever one would go, the other would follow. They could hear each other's thoughts, even if miles away. This was a rare trait.

But as these memories pushed on, the worst of all her thoughts came closer. The doors crashing down, the windows shattering, glass falling upon her lap. Her sister's cries, and her mother's pleas. Her father quickly grabbing a candlestick, the only one good thing they owned and tossing it at the intruders. The tall, muscular men, dressed in soldier's uniforms pushing through my sister and me to take my father by the neck. _Treason!_ They shouted. The words still echoing through Nalhifa's mind. _Punishable by death! _The men lifted her father from the ground, and her father's eyes widened. Her mother was beating on the soldier's shoulders, arms, but they merely threw her back. My sister and me cowered in fear, wrapped in each other's arms in a distant corner. She remembered the blood slowly trickle down her father's chin. And then the thud his body made as it hit the stone floor.

Then she remembered the soldiers roughly beating her mother to death. Each slow, painful kick taking a chunk of her mother's life. The two children huddled helplessly in the corner, shivering with their cursed tears. The men slowly picking them up, her sister kicking and screaming and her merely a rag doll in the man's arms. Then, the soldier throwing her sister upon a distant wall, breaking her delicate body. Then the soldier taking her away forever.

Now, years and years later, she was trapped. She was forced to serve the murderer who did away with her parents, and with a blasted smile upon her face! Only years later was she able to silently sneak from this prison, back to her home to acquire this mirror of memories. Yet, despite her anger, she worked on. Each day convincing herself that her family would want her to live on. And that one day, the Queen would get hers. She would suffer for the lives she took, for all the blood she spilled. Then, Nalhifa would get her revenge.


	4. A Moonlight Meeting

At first the dream was unclear, a mere fog-filled nightmare caused by bad and evil spirits. Every night, when his lids slowly spread over his dark blue irises all he would see was a picture full of blurred images, it was as a lake is when it is disturbed by a skipping rock, rippled. As nights wore on, it seemed with every shut of his eyelids, the dream became clearer. That the fog began to disperse. It would, with every awakening, bring more knowledge, another piece to the unfinished puzzle.

It troubled him, causing him to awaken in all hours of the night, sweat slowly trickling over his brow, then down over his lips. Slowly he would bring his hand up to carelessly wipe them away. Hasani's mind raced with images from this dream, the blood, the gore, oh, the sights. He could not release these dreaded and unwanted images.

The dream started as so many do, with him wandering, like a tiny child, through the vast and magnificent palace grounds. He was looking up at the grand pillars, lined of gold, wondering why he was not allowed to touch the marble pillar. Why was it forbidden by all except the Queen's few special cases? It is just a pillar, nothing special. Suddenly a longing, never experienced by Hasani before, began to take hold of him, consume him. He needed to graze his hand upon that pillar! Perhaps it was the fact that it was forbidden that enticed him to touch it.

Slowly he began to shuffle his feet, like an elderly man might do, towards the pillar's direction. He was going to touch it. Even though those who have done this before have paid for it with their lives, they have said to other's, before their execution, that the marble feels like the Queen's hand, cold and dead. _Cold and dead. _What did they mean by this, he did not know. All he did know was that he had to touch that that pillar! He was to be King soon, and to fear the Queen's wrath was preposterous!

He inched closer, his heart shifting and churning with every step. But as he descended even closer to the pillar, his focus was lost, switched to a new image that flew out of the corner of his eye. It was not a real image, just a mere flash of black against the sea of white marble.

"Hello?" He heard himself utter, quite helplessly really. "Is someone there?" His fear had ceased, and curiosity seemed to take over.

Quietly, he turned towards were he saw the flash and he began walking in that direction. He said not another word, and his breath was barely hearable. Moments passed, and he did not see another black flash. His hope was leaving him, just as he turned the corner. There is what stunned him, filled his mind with images of blood and gore, horror and despair.

There, blood spilled all over his body, was Paki, sprawled out helplessly. Closer Hasani descended towards his lifeless friend with his mouth gaped in horror. It seemed some monster had torn his throat out, as well as his heart which lie, no longer beating, beside him. Paki's face was too bloody to see his expression, but Hasani figured it was one of disbelief. Bruises littered his wrists, neck, and legs. Signs of struggle. Blood was smeared across his entire body, a never-ending pool resting beneath him. _Please, oh, please let this puddle of blood disappear. _Hasani slowly lowered his body to kneel beside his deceased friend. He examined where the heart had been, now being barely visible. He reached out his hand, unwillingly wanting to touch the area. The blood amazed him, enticed him actually. As his hand touched the red liquid, a strange sensation spread throughout his body. Slowly, he raised his bloody hand up to his mouth, where he carefully placed the blood upon his tongue. _Ecstasy. _

A new longing filled his body. No, has it come to this? His body churned and ached with the new emotion. He wanted to touch more blood, wanted it to pour through his fingers, stain them as it passed through. Why! What was this new monster overtaking him? A beast, creating foreign desires and needs. From the other side of the bloody body came a high-pitched snicker, rising from just below a whisper to a loud shout. Slowly, Hasani lifted his head, tears streaming wildly down his face. There, laughing with out regard to his pain, was the Queen-His Queen with white fangs, dripping of Paki's blood. Silence overtook him, presently closing his mouth. It was if _his _throat had been ripped from his neck! The only words he was able to mutter were, "More please."

This is where it ended, where he would awaken, silently screaming for help. Sweat would stream down his cheeks, accompanied by his salty tears. Every night this dream came. His eyes had become worn from lack of sleep, and his skin had begun to become pale. Would the torture ever end?

Again, tonight, it came. Haunting him even more with its repetition. He wanted it to stop, for the images to go away, but the dream persisted. His eyes shot open, pushing the dream away for a second. Quickly he pushed the silk sheets from his body. Immediately his body was covered in tiny bumps caused by the cold breeze that entered through the open window across the room. Slowly, he stood, and walked over to the open window.

His quarters resided upon the second floor of this magnificent palace, and from his window he could see the entire grounds. The pyramids, that littered the land, and the same pillars that enticed him in his nightmares. He saw the moon, shining brightly in the sky, acting as a beacon for those lost in the dry, Egyptian desert. Oh, what a sight. It was full, and the sky was clear. He reached his hand out towards it, wanting to touch it. He let his arm fall heavily to his side as he realized the impossibility.

"You can touch it-" A voice started from behind him. Quickly he turned, and saw his Queen standing in the doorway. Her skin was unbelievably pale, and her eyes seemed a dark red. Fatigue, he thought, that must be the reason. "With the right tools, you can do whatever your heart desires." She continued. She slid her long, black braid over her shoulder and began walking towards him. The moonlight that beamed in from the window spread over her tiny frame like a disease. She did not shrink from it, but seemed to grow from it, become all the more radiant.

"My Queen." Hasani gave a little bow. A hand pushed him up from the worshiping gesture. "We are to be married, Hasani, no need for you to worship me. You are to be my husband." She stopped, seeming to shrink in embarrassment. "I am to worship you." She slid her hand upon his shoulders. A shudder of ice over took him. Marble, they feel like marble.

"I am sorry, my Queen. I shall try to act as a husband should." No bow, just a deep gaze into her blood-shot eyes. She grazed her hand upon his face. "Call me Layla. That is my given name." He nodded and pushed her hand from his face. Hasani backed from her, closer to the window. The moonlight shone heavily upon her now, and more of her face was shown. He had not really seen her entire face, for he only saw her at night.

"What can I do?" She began. "To make you love me?" She pushed towards him, forcing herself upon him, embracing him. He did not fight, merely stood there. They slowly parted and he placed his hand carefully upon her cheek, pulling her face up towards his own. Then, he saw the tears, no, not tears, streaks of blood. They were smeared across her entire face. Blood tears. She quickly pulled away. "Do not look at me." She hollered. Then, almost instinctively she reached into her dress pocket. "I have something for you." She pulled out a crumbled piece of parchment. "Read it silently, in private. Let no one see it, but your own eyes. And when you are finished, burn it to ashes." With that she left, leaving Hasani confused, with the parchment in his hand.


End file.
